A day before the Inquisitors attacked the stronghold of the Cornsheim tribe.
Having discovered the attack in advance, the guild, under the emperor’s orders, began the work of smuggling out some of the scholars and research records.
During the process, the emperor took an interest in the artificial lifeforms that were lined up in one corner of the lab.
“Useful. Let’s take a few.”
The guild’s executives looked at the emperor with pale faces. After all, wasn’t this research into artificial life the primary reason the Cornsheim were branded as devil worshipers?
Nevertheless, he spoke with an impassive face, “This has nothing to do with the so-called devils. It’s a technology that abides by the rules of this dimensional world.”
While the majority of the artificial lifeforms – Homunculi – were destroyed during the great purge, the guild managed to smuggle out three of the dolls without the Inquisitors noticing.
“These are just empty dolls in the shape of a human.”
“When a soul enters, it will move properly. That’s how they’re designed.”
Then, how do you insert a soul?
As everyone expressed their bewilderment, the emperor started experimenting by moving his own soul into the dolls.
Moving one’s soul in and out freely wasn’t something an ordinary person could do, but everyone in the guild accepted it because it was the emperor who was doing it. Initially, they wondered what use they might have for dolls in the shape of a person.
Soon, the guild members unexpectedly witnessed moments when the dolls, which had been lying quietly, suddenly opened their eyes or got up and walked around.
Just as the emperor said, once a soul entered, the doll began to move like a human. It resonated with the incoming soul and gradually transformed to resemble the emperor, a remarkable sight to behold.
However, the emperor’s Homunculus demonstration hit an unforeseen snag. Forcing a soul to synchronize with the artificial life form used up too much mental energy, so it wasn’t easy to move his soul as freely as he could when using his own body.
The senses were also extremely dulled, so the emperor had to struggle for a while to adapt.
Most importantly, the dolls, which existed outside the rules of this world, couldn’t accept aura at all.
It goes without saying that this was extremely inconvenient for the emperor, who handled aura as easily as breathing. Aura was a force that underpinned life. Its lack was equivalent to becoming as powerless as a dying man.
Fortunately, there were no restrictions on using divine power, perhaps because it was bound with his soul, as the emperor explained.
So, where will you use it?
The guild executives were puzzled watching the emperor, who could destroy a guild building with a casual wave of his hand, move around weakly and unsteadily like a patient after entering the doll.
The emperor seemed somewhat unsatisfied, but he finished the experiment and placed the dolls in major branches of the guild, far from the capital.
And indeed, the emperor demonstrated the worth of those dolls on the southern front two years ago. The tide of the battle, which had been faltering, was reversed in an instant when a single priest with infinite divine power joined the fight.
With the added valiant efforts of the 1st Prince Owen, who was furiously fighting on the front lines, the front continued to push south until it stabilized at its current position.
During that time, the emperor in the capital had been in seclusion for prayer, and everyone believed without a doubt that it was divine intervention in response to his prayers.
Now, with that history…
How should they explain this to the boy and the old man staring in shock before them? 21 was at a loss.
What saved him was the calm voice that suddenly came from the side.
“The Lord has purified these false beings and used them as tools of God to look after the continent.”
Huh? The eyes of all three people were instantly directed to the audience.
The emperor had lifted his head and was looking at them. And at that moment, they clearly saw a very sacred aura around the emperor’s body. Surrounded by a soft, multicolored light, he spoke with a serene voice that echoed as if he were prophesying.
“This is proof that everything in this world cannot escape the Lord’s will. Even the petty squirming of the devil worshipers is under His control.”
Ah, truly it was a sacred spectacle!
Even though the protagonist was sitting in the audience with his legs crossed, it didn’t diminish the dignity and sanctity emanating from him.
…Perhaps.
Moved by the miracles the emperor had been bestowing over the past two days, old man Max welled up with tears.
“Forgive… forgive me. I was so blind and ignorant to doubt the agent of the Lord.”
“One cannot be blamed for sins born out of ignorance. You are forgiven.”
“Ah……”
The old man was so overwhelmed that he almost dropped the reins of the carriage.
Aslan looked somewhat skeptical but seemed to accept it somewhat. Only 21 stared at the emperor with narrow eyes.
Enrique: Where do you sell your lies?
Nathaniel: If you’re going to explain, do it properly. You’re still clumsy, Enrique.
Jerome was drunk heavily, aimlessly listening to the report from the search team. The grisly final image of Martha was lingering in his eyes, so it was impossible for him to remain sober.
“Boss. Something’s off about the movements of the Flanders guards. Our news is a bit late because the search team was sent all the way to the mountains, but it seems that the search team returning from the Asein Gate spotted the Flanders guards clustering on their back.”
“Rodrigo is heading towards the Carthago Gate. We should be hearing from him soon, so why don’t we reduce the number of search members and pay some attention to Flanders’ side?”
But Jerome gave no response. From the beginning, there was a guard from Carthago who had been colluding with Rodrigo within the guards of the Flanders Gate. Naturally, any suspicious movement would have been detected by him.
Moreover, for some reason, someone’s voice was continuously echoing in Jerome’s head.
[You’ve already lost Martha. All you have left are these stupid subordinates. If the Archduke Asein sends a punitive force, you will have nothing left.]
[Capture Asein’s spy.]
[Asein’s spy is the priority.]
“Asein’s spy is the priority. Find him.”
“But boss….”
“I won’t say it twice. Capture Aslan and that prisoner.”
The bandits flinched and avoided Jerome’s gaze as he glared fiercely with his bloodshot eyes. His subordinates, who had been watching his mood, soon vanished one by one, and before long, Jerome was left alone in the cabin. He continued to silently tilt his strong liquor until the night deepened and dawn arrived.
“Martha….”
Only when there was no one left to hear him, the name he rarely called flowed out so easily.
Martha had been his since the first time he saw her more than a decade ago. She was by his side without him even calling her name, breathing only in his grasp. Until just yesterday, Jerome had no doubt that everything about her, even her life, was in his hands.
Could that really be called love? Jerome didn’t know.
But because Martha had been so perfectly dependent on him up to now, Jerome had become unable to imagine a life without her.
Jerome, stubbornly chugging his drink, finally fell asleep sprawled out on the table as morning approached. Carefully approaching him was his foster son, Kaien.
He had been waiting a long time for Jerome to pass out. He quietly walked to the table, sticking out his tongue. Jerome was a rare human with a strong soul barrier. Unless he was drunk or passed out like this, it was not easy for Kaien to interfere directly. He didn’t dare to rip open the soul, and could only make a few comments to the heavily drunk Jerome. And the alcohol was so strong.
He remembered being thrown against the wall when he had naively reached out to Jerome’s soul in his childhood, thinking it would be as easy as with Martha. It was the first day he realized his powers were not omnipotent.
The next day, when Jerome’s soul’s defenses weakened due to a hangover, he managed to provoke Jerome into violence against Martha, thus achieving his revenge. Jerome himself might not have realized, but his soul was always focused on Martha. The day after he hit Martha, his soul was noticeably low in energy, a sickly green-blue color.
He couldn’t understand Jerome’s feelings at all, but at least he knew that Martha’s unhappiness was the most effective retaliation against Jerome. This time was no different. Jerome’s soul, which had weakened since yesterday, was wailing.
[Martha Martha Martha Martha]
Fortunately, the headache and tinnitus that had been bothering Kaien were starting to subside. He approached the drunk Jerome and grabbed his soul with one hand.
Just like Martha’s innocent soul had a fresh and sweet taste, a strong soul with lots of karma also had its unique, rich flavor. Jerome’s soul, which he had sampled little by little when he got the chance, was quite pleasant, as he remembered.
Kaien tore off one of the languishing soul’s arms, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
Jerome would not understand what his soul had yearned for throughout his life, even until his soul was completely devoured and he perished.
It couldn’t have been any more entertaining.
Aslan and his party traveled diligently throughout the night. Aside from a brief rest at dawn to allow the pack horses to rest, they continued to drive the carriage along the road without pause.
His Majesty Bart’s enormous power shone brightly here. Each time the horses began to tire, a potent divine power would invariably pour out, rejuvenating the creatures.
The pack horses, energized forcibly, had to pull the carriage hard, bewildered. Seeing the deep confusion reflected in the eyes of these round, gentle animals, Aslan felt a pang of guilt.
Nevertheless, by the time midday arrived, they had to abandon the carriage and travel on foot. As they neared the Flower Village, they found search parties patrolling tightly. If things continued like this, they would encounter search parties on the way to the Asein checkpoint as well.
Their faces were already well-known, making it impossible to disguise themselves as merchants. It seemed better to move while avoiding the search parties. Dressed in simple women’s clothing, they hid the carriage in the bushes and started walking along the road.
Thanks to alternating sleep during the night and the comfortable seated journey, the party was in good shape. All except His Majesty Bart, unfortunately.
Despite what seemed to be a self-restoration process using a vast amount of divine power, his unmoving body appeared extremely fragile.
“Do you want me to carry you?”
No. 21, unable to stand it any longer, asked, causing His Majesty to chuckle, patting his back. He must’ve thought it was a joke.
The foot journey progressed smoother than anticipated. No. 21 was indeed a ghostly figure, as he would suddenly signal the party to hide by the roadside in a quiet place, and invariably, a search party would pass by moments later.
Aslan began to wonder what sort of organization a guild with such people could be.
However, not long after noon, something happened to His Majesty Bart.
“Morres…”
He suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, murmuring to himself. His face, gazing blankly at nothing, became exceptionally pale. No. 21, who was leading the way, looked back and quickly returned to him, startled.
“Your Majesty?”
And then Aslan saw it.
Ah, those eyes again. Eyes that reflected everything, just as if they had turned mineral.
If there was no reflection of this world’s light, then what indeed was reflecting in those eyes, and from where?
After staring into space for a while, His Majesty eventually closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“I warned them not to make a fuss…”
“…?”
The party approached him, confused.
“Enrique.”
“…It’s 21.”
He responded out of habit, but worry was clear on 21’s face.
His Majesty, looking at the group surrounding him in silence, began to touch their foreheads one by one, imparting his divine power. It felt like he was preparing for something terrible, which made Aslan extremely uneasy.
“Something urgent has come up. I need to step away for a while. Enrique, I’ll leave everything to you. It will be tough, but I know you can do it.”
At the unexpected statement, 21’s face hardened. In response, His Majesty Bart held his arm and spoke as if entrusting him.
“Remember, your priority is to get these two beyond the Asein checkpoint.”
“But, Your Majesty…”
21 tried to argue, but His Majesty’s gaze and voice were firm.
“That’s the priority. Understand? If it’s not possible, abandon the homunculus. There’s a high probability that it will come to that.”
“…”
“Leave the rest to me.”
And as soon as he said that,
His Majesty’s body collapsed onto the ground, just like a puppet with its strings cut.
*Morres in trouble*
Inside Nate's head:
But then,
